


A Bell and a Scream

by MaryaDmitrievnaLikesSundays



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Drugging, Drugs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Injections, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, School, Secret Identity, Sensory Overload, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-14 15:44:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16915701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaryaDmitrievnaLikesSundays/pseuds/MaryaDmitrievnaLikesSundays
Summary: Something was wrong. Peter didn’t know what, but sitting in his fourth period English class he knew that something was terribly, horribly wrong.Peter? Drugged.Senses? HaywireStudents of Midtown Institute Of Technology? ShockedHotel? TrivagoAnyways just identity reveal and whump





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fucking cowards

Something was wrong. Peter didn’t know what, but sitting in his fourth period English class he knew that something was terribly, horribly wrong.

 

All he knew was that his hands were shaking and the room was swimming and his stomach was twisting in a manner that threatened his breakfast bar.

 

Well, he knew a little bit more than that. He knew that, while stopping a mugging on his way to school, something had stabbed him in the nape of his neck. But he was late already, and he wasn’t about to risk detention on the same day as decathalon practice.

 

He lifted a trembling hand to try and wipe away the sweat on his brow, but had to remind himself not to use his full strength to grip the desk when the action made his eyes start to roll back into his head.

 

_Shouldve stayed home. Should’ve stayed home. Should’ve stayed home. Should’ve stayed—_

 

”Peter, would you like to join us?”

 

Peter’s unfocused eyes glanced in the general direction of the blob that sounded like his teacher. He wasn’t sure he could fully speak, so he nodded weakly and almost collapsed when the teacher turned back to the board.

 

Suddenly, Ned elbowed him sharply. “Hey,” he asked in a loud whisper. “You alright?”

 

Peter jolted but recovered and, fighting back a random spasm, shook his head and replied, “I think—“ An uneven breath. “I think I’m really sick, man.” He had to keep himself from gagging as his stomach did somersaults and his feet began to go numb.

 

Things were getting louder. The ringing that had occupied his ears for hours as turning into a scream. Somewhere far away, he heard Ned say, “Do you need to go to the nurse? I can make a distraction.”

 

Peter scrunched his eyes shut to keep the classroom from spinning as he shook his head and started to dent his desk. He knew the nurse only showed up on Thursdays but didn’t have time to comprehend that because the ringing was getting louder and louder and he could hardly think because he was putting every ounce of energy into not throwing up all over his class copy of  _House on Mango Street_ or passing out where he sat.

 

Briefly, he heard Ned threatening to call May, but he was interrupted by the teacher saying sharply, “Peter, if you disrupt the class again I will have to send you down to discipline, understand?” And Peter wanted to defend himself because it was Ned that was talking but he wasn’t given the chance because the bell for first lunch shift sounded and the ringing was amplified by a million and he couldn’t even think or feel anything beyond this painful, heavy thickness and the screaming in his ears. He forgot where he was, who he was, and everything beyond  _turn it off_.

 

The bell rang again and his entire body spasmed so hard that he touched the ceiling and then he was on the ceiling and skittering into the corner looking for anywhere that might not be infected by this awful  _ringing_ that was overpowering every other sound, even the shocked gasping of his classmates. He clutched at his head and squeezed his eyelids so hard he was surprised they didn’t tear. He was sure he was on a boat because why else would the room be rocking so much? Why else would he feel so fucking nauseous?

 

His breath was coming out in short gasps now, and the only idea he had to block the god-awful ringing out was to cover his ears because scuttling into the corner hadn’t done anything so the sound must have been coming for everywhere, just like the stabbing pains and bouts of heaviness were. He panicked for a moment because he had nothing on him, but then remembered his webshooters that he now wore permanently. For just a second he felt relief flooding him as he wrenched his shaking hands from his hair and webbed over his ears, but it was short lived. The ringing only got louder, even though he didn’t think it was possible.

 

There as only one thing left to do: Scream.

 

He caught flashes of conversations beneath him but couldn’t grasp onto them and instead let them slip past his tortured mind as broken sobs and screams ripped from his throat.

 

“Holy shit!”

 

”Calm down, everyone, please—“

 

”Peter, who do I call?”

 

”What the fuck!”

 

”How did he do that?!”

 

“What should we do?”

 

”Okay, I’m calling Mr. Stark!”

 

”Penis  _knows_ Tony Stark?”

 

”Shut up, Flash!”

 

”Oh, my God.”

 

”Michelle, hold on! Mr. Hogan, we’ve got a huge problem!”

 

Peter curled in on himself, hoping he could implode and dissapear. He’d give up being Spider-Man if it meant this torture would stop. He’d give his own life. He’d give  _anyone’s_ life. He just wanted this to end.

 

The base of his neck felt like it had been stabbed and had Peter been able to wrench his hands away from his head he would likely feel it swollen. He tried to bite his lip to stop his screams but stopped when he tasted blood.

 

Well, no, he didn’t, he only clamped down harder, but the shouts of agony persisted anyways. And god, that  _ringing_.

 

“Is that—“

 

”What the hell?”

 

”Why is Iron Man outside?”

 

Peter wanted to tell them all to shut up, please, maybe that would make the ringing and aching and tingling and pin stop. A second later, though, the concerned and confused words of his classmates all blended together and began to fade away as the world around him started going dark.

 

And then he was peeling off of the ceiling and hurtling down, down, down towards whatever fate awaited him.

 

As he lost grip on the last wisps of his consciousness, he was sure he felt a strong pair of arms carrying the scent of gasoline and oil catch him.

 

Then, mercifully, the ringing stopped and everything faded to silent black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From Tony’s perspective

~~~~~~~~~~~~Tony felt like a damn idiot. His suit was too slow, his medical knowledge was slipping, and his intern was superhuman, sick, and falling off of a ceiling surrounded by people who thought he was normal.

 

Tony had gotten a call from Happy at around eleven in the morning. Well, not really from Happy; Happy had forwarded some kid’s call to him.

 

With an indignant groan, for he had been watching a brand-new movie with Pepper, he answered the forward gruffly, “What?”

 

”Mr. Stark?” Called a young voice. Tony could hear some sort of commotion in the background but couldn’t make out what it was. He sat up some, leaving Pepper’s arms on the couch where his head had been.

 

”Who is this? How did you get Happy’s number?”

 

The voice stuttered, “I’m—I’m Ned, sir, and Peter gave it to me for emergencies. And—and I’d call this an emergency.”

 

Tony stood all the way up now as ice flooded his bloodstream. He wished he could excuse this as regular teenage drama, but he knew Peter, and he knew that wasn’t the case. “What happened?”

 

Ned was quick to answer. “He seemed super sick in English, like about to pass out, and then the bell rang and he jumped onto ceiling—so I guess the whole secret identity thing is blown—and he started looked awful and now he’s like screaming and crying and I don’t know what to do,” he rambled. As if on cue, an unforgettable, strangled scream sounded in the background, followed quickly by an uproar from whoever else was in he room. Tony flinched and felt his knees weaken considerably.

 

”I’m there,” he replied shakily, then ended the call. No sooner had Pepper asked, “where are you going?” than he’d shot out of the room in his already-on armor.

 

So now, flying at top speed to the address that FRIDAY had given him, trying not to think about all the ways that Peter could be sick or hurt or dying, he scanned the area until a flash of distinguished brick told him that he was nearing the school.

 

He told FRIDAY to take him down on the roof of the building and stepped out of the suit, wasting no time setting it on sentry mode and sprinting to the staircase. He didn’t need to be directed to the right room; the crowd of people around a clearly locked door was obvious.

 

He pushed past the wide-eyed teenagers and slammed the door open, not even taking the time to process how everyone in the room was staring at him because he was already running to try and catch Peter, who was peeling off of the ceiling as his eyes rolled back into his head. He held his arms out and braced his body for impact.

 

Thankfully, he felt Peter’s lax body collide with his arms. He stumbled, then righted himself with as much grace as possible in the moment. He was still a showman, after all.

 

He didn’t look at Peter’s face. He couldn’t. Instead, Tony focused on the feeling of the chest rising and falling against his own. He turned to the fourty or so students and their ashen-faced teacher. Well, fuck.

 

”FRIDAY, send the suit.” He muttered into his earpiece, then redirected his gaze onto Peter’s friend, who looked equal parts starstruck and concerned. “Fred, I need you to round up everyone that saw this. Keep them in the room, delete any videos, and don’t let them say a word. My best lawyer is on her way.”

 

Ned’s face hardened into a look of determination. “Yes, Sir.” Tony felt like he was about to do some sort of salute, and was very relieved when he didn’t. So, he nodded and repeated he message to the rest of the students, half of whom he knew had had their phones recording the whole event.

 

Then, with no warning, the Iron Man suit pushed through the crowd, earning a few frightened yelps from startled students.

 

He stepped in, careful to keep Peter close to his chest and safely positioned, and sped off without looking back.

 

——

 

Peter heard his groan before he processed the waves of pain pushing through him that had caused it. He opened his eyes, blinking blearily at nothing while he tried to make sense of where he was, then turned his head slightly to see Tony Stark, three piece suit and all.

 

He jumped and sat up, holding back a hiss of pain at the sudden movement. Suddenly feeling naked in the thin cotton clothes He was in, Peter was quick to draw the blankets up to his aching chest.

 

He plastered on a nervous smile and tried to seem nonchalant as he said, “H-hey Mr. Stark! How are, Uh, how are you doing?”

 

After a long moment in which Tony seemed to be ignoring Peter, he finally looked up and set down the magazine he’d been reading.

 

”Peter,” he said softly, “What the hell was that?”

 

Peter’s eyes widened and his smile faded away. “W-what?”

 

Tony’s hard gaze finally met his, and Peter felt his fingers grip the sheets below him. He felt a sense of forbidding much like he did whenever May was about to light something on fire or tell him off for breaking curfew.

 

Tony began speaking again, but louder this time, less gentle. “Why didn’t you tell me you got stabbed with something? That you were  _drugged_?”

 

Peter flinched at the word, but wasn’t even given time to respond before Tony was off again, this time holding up what looked to be a dirty syringe with a drop or two of dark liquid left in it.

 

“Do you know what this is?” He asked sharply, rhetorically. “This is rat killer mixed with fucking heroin. This is  _hard shit_. Some goons in an alley stab you with something in your neck of all places, and you don’t even think to check in? Not even when you started feeling sick? You just thought, ‘oh, look at me, I’m gonna be fine and definitely not  _expose my secret identity to my entire class_.” Peter felt his blood run cold and felt like he’d been stabbed in the stomach with an icicle, but Tony wasn’t done. His hands gripped tighter.

 

”Your metabolism kept you from dying or getting addicted, thank god, but what if it hadn’t, Peter? What if they’d used three times the shit and you’d died? Do you not bother to check up anymore? You think you’re grown, think you can handle yourself?” Peter felt hot shame rise in his face. Tony stood up and began pacing the room, gesturing with the syringe.

 

”You could have died! Even though you didn’t, now fourty-eight people know your identity! I had to send Pepper over there just to sort all of it out, and she wasn’t happy. You must think I’m stupid, huh? That you could just risk your life, go to school, and live to tell the tale? And that I wouldn’t find out?” Tony jabbed the syringe in Peter’s face, who shrank away from it, all his pain forgotten.

 

”You think sacrificing yourself is this great thing, that it’s the most heroic thing a hero could do, but guess what? It’s not! If the Avengers were all as self-sacrificial as you than Earth wouldn’t have survived Loki because we’d all have been taken down by six Chitauri. And if we lose you, we win a battle but lose a war, because Queens will have lost its only real defender, your aunt will have lost her last hope for life, and I’ll have lost a good amount of fucking tech and research!”

 

Tony sighed to himself and slammed the syringe down on the nightstand. Peter visible relaxed.

 

Tony was done. He seemed cool, his body was more relaxed, and now he just seemed saddened. He was done. He turned to Peter, now devoid of anger, and felt regret weigh him down at the kid’s terrified eyes. It didn’t last long, though; the thought of losing him swept any pity away.

 

Even so, his voice was softer when he said, “And I would have lost you, too.”

 

He sniffed, looked anywhere but at Peter, and quickly muttered, “You can go home this evening. I told May you stayed here because of a project,” then shuffled out of the room.

 

Peter let out a shuddering breath into silence. His pain all returned without a distraction to keep it at bay and he felt shaky from his scolding, but a warm feeling was still spreading through his body, because Tony had finally said what he’d meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Need a nap and also love and my sister is pissing me off and I didn’t get cast as the part I wanted in a musical but Life Is Good


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pepper deals with the aftermath

The clacking Of heels on linoleum was the only sound he could be heard as Pepper briskly strode through the halls of some prestigious high school. She shuddered at the thought of returning to high school. She could feel the eyes of students and teachers alike following her, none brave enough to ask why she was here.

 

Not like she would have told them.

 

She huffed and ran a hand over her perfectly-sprayed down ponytail. Tony had sent her here. It was always Tony.

 

Obviously she was worried, she had gotten to know Peter pretty well over time, but now she had a bunch of freaked-out kids to deal with. Speaking of...

 

She was given no room number, only a floor, but it was apparent which room she was supposed to enter; where all the other classrooms had been near silent, this one was full of panicked murmuring, phrases like “maybe he’s an alien?” and “who do you think he sent?” slipping out from the crack under the door and into Pepper’s ears.

 

Pepper paused at the door, shuck out her ponytail, straightened her back, and strode into the room like the composed CEO that she was.

 

The chatter died instantly. Even the teacher was silent.

 

Pepper carefully set her briefcase on one of the rickety desks, and began with no greeting, “My name is Pepper Potts. I have been sent by Tony Stark to take care of a matter regarding one Peter Parker.”

 

Her eyes swept the room, over fourty-Something pairs of confused and frightened eyes, all clearly expecting too much of her.

 

She cleared her throat and continued, “I know you all saw a certain...display today, and I know that you are smart kids. From, uh—from Queens. And I am sure you have all put two and two together—“

 

”Is Parker Spider-man?” A boy near the back blurted out. Something about him bristled Pepper the Wrong way, whether it was his letterman jacket or his overly-gelled hair. She knew his type all too well.

 

Either way, she held her tongue and sighed, “What is your name?”

 

”Fl—Eugene, ma’am,” the boy replied cockily.

 

”Okay,  _Eugene_ , I was trying to be a bit more delicate, but yes. Peter Parker is Spider-Man.” A chorus of gasps filled the room for a staccato beat. She smiled as Eugene wilted under her gaze.

 

Pepper continued, pulling some forms from her briefcase, “And that’s precisely why I was sent here today.”

 

She began passing them out, asking students near the front to hand them to those further back. “These,” she explained, “Are non-disclosure forms. They ensure that you are not to reveal any information that you have of these...events. Should you breach this contract...”

 

Pepper smoothed out her blazer and smiled lightly. “My company will sue you for everything your parents have.”

 

The same irritating boy piped up, “What if we don’t sign them?”

 

Her smile dropped. “You’ll be taken into custody.  _My_ custody.”

 

He gulped and scribbled down his name.

 

As all the forms were being collected, a large Asian boy that Pepper vaguely recognized asked shakily, “Is Peter gonna be okay?”

 

His eyes were watery, and despite evident determination, it was clear he had been crying. An apathetic girl wearing a pin-covered jacket looked on nervously.

 

“Ned, right?”

 

The boy nodded.

 

Pepper slowly leaned against a desk, rubbing a perfectly-manicured hand down her face. “We’re not quite sure yet,” she replied grimly. “His blood test came back positive for...some pretty crazy stuff.” She laughed humorlessly. “It’s enough to kill someone who’s not enhanced like he is. Honestly, I’m surprised he’s even alive.”

 

She realized that was the wrong answer when Ned began to shudder, the girl next to him awkwardly draping an arm over his shoulders.

 

”But—but, he’s survived way worse! I mean, he made it out just fine when a building collapsed on him!” She quickly corrected herself. Luckily, he calmed down just a bit, nodding to himself.

 

”Alright,” she breathed, relieved. “Any other questions?”

 

No reply.

 

”Great,” she commented, regaining her composure once more. “Well, I’ll be off, and I trust that none of you will treat Peter any differently when he comes back.” She had to keep herself from saying ‘if’.

 

Without giving the students any time to react, Pepper closed her briefcase with a final-sounding  _click_ , opened the door, and began formulating an excuse to give the principal on why Peter would be out for a while.

 

She sighed. It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whats up sluts (and mom) should I do a song fic series???? Like y’all can suggest songs and I can do little one shots inspired by them????????? Suggest songs bellow I guess?????!??

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I’m still working on blinking Lights yes I’ll update it soon pls leave a fucking detailed comment bye


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